Touch Starved
by Defender of the Dogma
Summary: Dick is always in a new relationship. He's funny, charming, handsome, and kind. But nothing ever stays. There has to be a reason why. Warning: heavy angst. Lots of heavy angst. Rated for angst. NOTHING EXPLICIT THOUGH IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM: THERE IS NADA DESCRIPTION OF ANYTHING.
1. Intro

**Don't get me wrong here, I** _ **love**_ **the batfam and their interactions, but this had to be written. And I think it kinda makes sense, even if their family does love each other.**

 **Also, this takes place after Nightwing has been Batman. He now lives as a cop in Bludhaven again (I know that's not really sticking to the storyline, but copdick was great).**

 **Disclaimer: I own what rocks dream about. Also, there are NO DETAILS AT ALL ABOUT ANYTHING INTIMATE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY. That there have been relationships is said, but NOTHING is given in any way, shape or form. AT ALL.**

Dick Grayson had been in a lot of intimate relationships. This was strange because there was only one woman he'd ever really loved. Barbara Gordon. But at the same time… he never seemed to be _without_ someone. Of course, with his looks, he could have just about any girl in existence. But for someone who was trained by Batman to constantly guard himself, and who had such a high, unyielding moral code… it seemed confusing, maybe even oxymoronic, to keep up that never ending stream of females. Until you thought about it.

* * *

Dick reached over to ruffle Damian's hair, but the smaller boy ducked out of the way. "Cease your pathetic attempts at physical contact, Grayson!"

"Boy, you have the longest way of saying 'back off', Dami!" Dick managed to pull Damian into a quick hug, that the boy promptly tried to squirm out of.

"Grayson I shall flay the skin from your bones if this continues!"

"Aww, I know you wouldn't!"

Damian kicked at him, but lacked leverage: the kick was without force. Finally, though, the smaller boy squirmed his way out of Dick's hold. He bounded off, calling mockingly over his shoulder. Dick very maturely stuck his tongue out at his little brother. Once Damian was around the corner, he sighed, and rubbed a hand over his arm.

Mentally he kicked himself for his dejection. He'd gotten a few seconds of physical contact from Damian, that was more than he'd had from his family in a month. He should be grateful, not whining pathetically. Well. It was time to leave anyway.

Dick trudged toward the manor doors, knowing that he would soon have to return to his apartment. Alone. Unlo - NO! His family loved him. He knew that much and was a monster for thinking otherwise, even for a second. They just didn't need pathetic contact every minute of every day.

Dick stepped outside the manor doors and made his way to his cycle. There were advantages to having a motorcycle. Aside from maneuverability, it felt kind of like flying on the ground. And if someone rode with you they had to hold on behind you, and you could pretend it was a hug. No one was riding with him back to Bludhaven. No one from his family had optionally hugged him in months. That was okay. Most people weren't pathetic and needy like Dick. He couldn't expect them to be different from what they were.

Finally, Dick pulled up in front of his apartment. Trudging up the dark stairs, he unhooked the keys from his belt. Fingers glided over smooth metal to find the niche that indicated the correct key. The tip bounced off the side of the keyhole once, then slid in. A click tells him the door unlocks, a creak accompanies the door's motion.

They should be sounds he isn't able to hear. He should hear laughter, bickering; anything that means someone else is there. Squeaking floorboards should be inaudible over the sound of light hearted teasing. But if he turns on the light his will be the only shadow. The room mocks him with it's noise; noise he shouldn't be able to hear. Or maybe he doesn't deserve the laughter, the bickering, the teasing.

He knows that's it. It's not his family's fault he's such a failure. Especially when he's supposed to be the strong one. The rock, the one that keeps everyone safe no matter what. More than safe. Dick is supposed to be the perfect one. The one with the perfect handle on his emotions, never out of control, never allowed to brood in the darkness, and always, _always_ , there for everyone else.

When someone was feeling particularly down, it was Dick's job to say the perfect thing to build them up. When everyone else broke, and Bruce hid in the Batcave's stalagmites plotting schemes in overdrive… Dick needed to be untouched. Never dwelling, always moving forward and carrying everyone with him.

It was the least he could do. Afterall, he didn't have any other particular value. He had been first. The original experiment. Now he was outdated. Years ago things had been nicer. Years ago, Batman had smiled: everyone had smiled. There had been constant jokes, ridiculous costumes, and corny puns. It seemed no one remembered that anymore. Dick was the last remnant of a forgotten world.

Trudging toward his bed, not bothering with the light (his shouldn't be the only shadow), he sank onto the covers.

His last relationship had ended a few weeks ago. He couldn't commit to her when he was in love with Barbara. But if he didn't have a girlfriend, no one would touch him. He knew he was attractive. It seemed to be the only reason people optionally spent time with him. He needed to find someone else. The emptiness was unbearable. But it was all he had, for now.


	2. Crime Fighting

**Chapter 1**

Dick opened his eyes. Apartment. Right. He briefly wondered if he could go visit the manor, then immediately berated himself for it. How could he even _think_ that? He'd been just yesterday, and he'd gotten to _hug_ Damian. How could he be so selfish as to want _more_? Besides, he didn't have any good reason for going, and if he did they might get suspicious. He couldn't let them get suspicious: couldn't let them know he wasn't fine. He _had_ to be fine for them. That was his point.

But _oh_ , if he could just _brush_ someone's arm, a gentle graze… they'd never notice.

How could he even think that? Leaching off his family just to get _contact_. Pathetic. Dick's fingers trembled as he found the recorder he always kept with him when he talked with his family.

They were far to special to bother to talk with him as much as he'd like, but if he recorded their conversations he could hear them anyway. It was a gross breach of trust, reusing their words like that. They would hate him if they knew, he was sure. But he just couldn't stop. Needy. Pathetic. His finger pressed play.

 _"Cease your pathetic attempts at physical contact, Grayson!"_

 _"Grayson I shall flay the skin from your bones if this continues!"_

Dick closed his eyes and basked in the sound. Damian was right of course. 'Pathetic attempts at physical contact'. That summed it up pretty well. He rewound further, to hear Bruce's voice and Alfred's. He skipped most of Bruce's parts, though. That always felt horrible, mostly because he knew how much the older man hated Dick's emotional outreaches. Bruce would be disgusted if he knew how Dick was abusing his voice. Dick only listened to Bruce's voice when everything was crashing down and a knife seemed the only other option.

Sighing, Dick replayed Damian's parts.

 _"Cease your pathetic attempts at physical contact, Grayson!"_

No one wanted Dick to be so needy. Why couldn't he be worth anything? Stupid. Worthless. The words sliced into his heart: screaming pain only voiced in whimpers. _"pathetic"_ But the words were true. So he cherished them, took them to heart. Because Damian had said it. Damian had been stuck with him for a full year. If Damian thought Dick was pathetic and worthless, then the boy had to be right.

Oh, Damian. Dick missed him every day. He'd raised the boy for a year, loved him, took care of him… and then Bruce came back. And took him away. Dick had wanted to keep the little boy, had _needed_ to keep him. But he'd known that was selfish and wrong. _Bruce_ was the boy's father, and Dick was no substitute for Bruce of all people. Damian would be better off with Bruce. Dick… could never be Damian's father.

Holding back a whimper he pressed play again. He loved that boy more than anything else in the world… Patrol.

That was what he needed. He needed to go patrol, and he needed to do it now. He needed to hurt. That was always easy.

* * *

The fist pounded into his body again, cracking a few inadequately defended ribs. Gasping, Dick felt himself slam against the pavement, asphalt tearing at his skin. It was some new guy on venom juice. No Blockbuster, though. Dick could beat him if he wanted.

The fists pounded in again. Dick's head ricocheted off the road, stars jumping before his eyes. Well. At least it was touch.


	3. Family Bonding

**Chapter 2**

 **I have had a review that mentioned the possibility of Dick being drawn into an abusive relationship. While I don't think that's the direction this story is going, that is kind of what I did in another story of mine: Broken Robin. So if you want an abused Dick, check that one out.**

A festival. Damian's school was hosting a festival. This was wonderful. Not so much because it was bound to be interesting. It was a party hosted by a school. Given Dick's nightlife it didn't even have a candle to hold for Dick's attention. If Dick would be going alone, that is. But this was a wonderful excuse. He knew his family wouldn't want to go on his account, (who could blame them) but he could almost always get Alfred to rope everyone into going.

Yes. Yes. He knew it was selfish: he'd seen them so recently, after all. But he needed them so badly it hurt, and besides, he had to keep up his reputation. For some reason his family believed that he was under the impression that dragging Damian to these events would give Damian a normal childhood.

Dick wasn't stupid. Damian didn't want a normal childhood, and anyway; he'd been exposed to a thousand carnivals already, another one wouldn't change a thing, unless there was something truly special about it. In this case, there wasn't. But Dick had to keep up appearances. It wasn't because of his desperation for touch, of course. It was just… consistency.

Dick raced for his helmet. Carnival. Perfect.

* * *

"Little D!" Dick grinned at Alfred, before moving forward. Undoubtedly Damian knew of the oncoming festival. ('I must remain informed at all times of whatever may transpire in my place of education. After all, I am the only one adequately prepared to defend this pathetic institution!') Honestly, his little brother was to adorable for words sometimes.

Also, he was probably not going to make this easy. They never did. Of course, Dick knew how he came off, trying to drag them away from things they actually enjoyed for what he proposed as 'family bonding'. He always asked everyone first, of course, to give them a chance to reject him. He needed the reminder that he wasn't wanted. It kept him grounded.

"Dami, you in here?" He was, Dick was sure of it. Now for the… fun part. "Coming in!"

"Grayson, what do you want?"

"Dami, your school has a party!"

"Your point being? Grayson if you attempt to force me into another of your 'bonding' activities, I shall separate your head from your body. Slowly."

"You wouldn't because you're my darling baby brother who loves me."

Dick plopped beside Damian and pulled him into a hug. Sighing, he felt a dull burn where their forms were pressed together. It was a pleasant tingling sensation, and one he didn't get often enough. It was better with skin to skin, though, so Dick pressed his face into Damian's neck.

Damian growled at this treatment, whipping his head back in an attempt to dislodge Dick's head from it's overly affectionate position on his shoulder. However, Dick had all kinds of practice with dodging mini assassins, and Damian's head only thunked ineffectively against Dick's. There hadn't been enough force mustered to cause any real damage.

"I hate you so much."

"I love you too."

"Grayson, when shall you accept that your advances are unwanted? No one wishes to go to these pathetic activities. Except you. You are unnatural."

"No, I'm normal. You brooding bats are the weird ones."

"Even so called 'normal' people are not this pathetic." Damian once again attempted to dislodge his older brother, who only held him tighter feeling the beautiful burning on his body and face sink a little deeper.

"That shows what you know. You wouldn't know awesome if it fell on you."

"That is because I embody 'awesome' already. Release me. Now."

Damian brung up a good point. Damian was awesome. Far too awesome to have to deal with his clingy brother. His brother who couldn't help but hold him.

"Come on, I know you really want to go!"

Damian didn't.

"Please Dami? For me?"

Damian sighed. "Grayson, you should know by now that I have no wish to accompany you on your overly emotional exploits. Go away."

Dick sighed, and forced himself to pull away from Damian, who gave him a lovely death glare. Dick was touched. He knew that had been Damian's version of a soft letdown. Damian was so kind and amazing to give Dick that beautiful gift. Dick didn't deserve to be let down so easily. To make up for things, to punish himself for Damian's kindness (he didn't deserve the kindness, this was all he could do to atone) he replayed Damian's harsher words over and over in his head on his way to Tim's room.

 _"Your advances are unwanted. You are unnatural. I hate you."_

I hate you. Perfect. It was everything Damian should ever be saying to Dick, all summed up in three beautiful words. Hate.

"Hey Timmy!" Dick called, swinging inside the doorframe. Opening his defences. Baring his heart. He didn't deserve the slightest defence against his siblings. "Good news, Dami's school is having a carnival."

"No."

"Yes they are."

"I mean, no, I'm not going. Ever. Why can you not see what a horrendously bad idea this is?"

"You mean horrendously awesome."

"No. No, I don't. Dick, why do you do this? You know we don't want to go. You know Damian doesn't want to go. You know these stupid parties never make any difference for him. All they do is make us miserable, and we all fight with each other and get no work done."

"But the way this family bonds is fighting! And all work and no play…"

"Makes very efficient bats. Look, maybe this cuddle stuff was cute when you were eight, but you need to grow up! We have more important things to do now, and this isn't helpful."

"Timmy, don't you love me?"

"Not even a little bit."

Dick's heart shattered again, as the poison covered words crashed into his heart. He didn't try to shield himself from them. Reaching out he embraced the agony, and put on a smile.

"You know you do. So pleeease?"

"Stop whining, you're a grown man for goodness sakes. Why are you so needy? Let me get my work done, Dick!"

Dick sighed, and walked away, calling something he himself didn't hear over his shoulder. Tim was logical… when he said something he was right. If he said Dick was unwanted and unloved he meant it, and it was true. You couldn't just disbelieve Timmy. Besides, who'd bother trying to debate something so obvious?


	4. Skydiving

**Chapter 3**

"Jaybird? Little Wing?"

Nicknames. They were the best. They helped keep his little siblings closer, in some ways. They were a good excuse for cuddling, if he pretended like he didn't notice his amazing little siblings growing up and stop wanting him… if he'd ever been wanted at all.

"What, do you _want_ , Golden Boy?" Of course, it went both ways. Their nicknames for him were always such lovely reminders of his own unwantedness. And Jason had so many reasons to hate him… Dick had been the worst older brother imaginable.

After his argument with Bruce, Dick had tried to branch out; be his own person. That sounded unbearably stupid, now. Anyway. He should have known better than to try and fight with Bruce. Bruce always won. Hard. And then there was the other thing… Dick had been stupid to think he was worth anything without Bruce and his family. He had been stupid to think that he was really important to Bruce at all.

Batman had made that abundantly clear by taking in a literal thief, making him his ward, and then giving him _Robin_ , and all without Dick's permission, or even knowledge.

Robin had never been just a superhero name. It was what had been Dick's mother's special name for him: her Little Robin. She'd used it the night she died. And Bruce had given it away. Hadn't bothered explaining what it meant, hadn't told Dick what he'd done… Dick had learned about Robin 2 from the _newspapers_ of all things.

And then Bruce had adopted the kid. Dick had been Batman's partner and ward for nearly 10 years, and Bruce had never adopted _him_. But Jason… Jason got to be a _real son_. And did Bruce adopt Dick when he adopted Jason? No. Of course not. It wasn't like the two of them were talking, anyway. Dick had still been trying to hold to his individual self worth back then. Bruce was hurting him, and Dick was staying away. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Dick got adopted later, of course. After Tim. At that point people would have just been plain suspicious if he hadn't done otherwise. Now, at first, as Robin, Dick hadn't cared if he was adopted or not. He'd felt Bruce loved him, and he was sure that they had a father/son relationship without any paperwork. But if he was going to adopt Jason…

Fire Dick from the job that had really been his _life_ for so many years, toss him from the manor like unwanted garbage, find another kid, give the kid Robin, make the kid his son… there was no way Bruce could have said more explicitly that Dick was the _real_ greatest failure he'd ever had.

And sure, maybe at some point Dick could have taken Robin from Jason, once he'd learned about the boy. But how would that work? 'Hey, I'm the original Robin and if you wouldn't mind me taking the job away from you (not to use it or anything, you understand), then I'll just be on my say. See, that job was really important to me, and it sort of hurts my feelings when you use it… and this has nothing to do with you!'

Ah, yes. That wouldn't gone over well.

He'd never had a problem with Jason. Jason had just gotten caught up in everything that was going on. His problem had been with Bruce, ensuring he couldn't bare to visit the manor for fear of seeing the man. So, so stupid. And his stupidity had kept him from getting to know his valiant little brother who gave up the ultimate sacrifice one could make.

And he was chasing after his mother. If Dick had been there, if he'd been a proper big brother, Jason would've felt he could align with him against Bruce, they would have gone together; Jason would've lived!

But worthless, worthless, Dick had failed, and Jason had died. Yes, Jason had every right in the book to hate him.

"Jaybird, you won't believe it! Dami's school is hosting a _fiesta grande_ and we're all invited!"

"The depths of your stupidity never cease to amaze me, Dick. Ever. Go away."

"Noooooo, this is the chance of a lifetime! A real family bonding activity! Imagine the happiness on your siblings faces!"

Jason looked at him as if he had lost his mind… which was a fair assumption considering the nonsense he was spouting. "The… do you honestly think you're making anyone happy or are you worse than the Joker?"

"More crazy than Joker?"

"Worse than. You'd have to be evil to try to knowingly inflict this on us."

When Jason was right, he was right.

"I'm not evil! You all just make me out to be the bad guy because you don't want to admit I'm right."

"Dick. You are good at many things. Like being bait for supervillains and picking up desperate women. You're just delusional when it comes to anything important.

"Jason! There's no reason to say things like that. This'll be fun! If we both team up and decide to go-"

"There is no reason I would willingly associate with you. Ever, Dick. The only reason we're even related is because Bruce thought you were too pathetic to fend for yourself. Like a pet. Except most puppies grow up, whereas you seem determined to mooch off everyone for the remainder of your meaningless life. Seriously, Dick, why can't you just grow up?"

"I prefer to retain my boyish charm."

"What charm, every girl you've ever met has left you for every excuse in the book! I get that you're desperate but do you _need_ to waste hours of our day making us do this stuff? _Some_ of us actually have lives to live! Or regenerated deaths, anyway. Hard for you to imagine, I know. Now go jump off a skyscraper or something!"

Dick heaved a disappointed sigh and left the room, wondering if Jason wouldn't mind if Dick just didn't bring his grapple along for the ride.


End file.
